


Welcome to Stark Industries

by greenbergsays



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crack Treated Seriously, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-28
Updated: 2017-01-28
Packaged: 2018-09-20 11:29:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9489044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greenbergsays/pseuds/greenbergsays
Summary: If you had asked Steve before he started working at Stark Industries, he would’ve said that superheroes didn't use public elevators.Except -- well, here they are.He thinks he can be forgiven for staring a little.





	

**Author's Note:**

> So, my first foray into the Stucky pairing was in April of 2015. Just after I posted my first fanfiction, I wrote this because it was originally supposed to be a "Stucky elevator AU" and then turned into a cracky little thing about everyone working at Stark Industries and an alternate Avengers team.
> 
> It was supposed to be longer or probably a series but I kept changing my mind about what I wanted to do with it and so it's sat in my WIP folder on Google Docs for almost two years now.
> 
> Oops.
> 
> Anyways, I decided to go ahead and post it because no matter what the original purpose, it was and can be a standalone. So enjoy some humor!

Officially, Stark Industries has its own, mostly-standard employee manual.

The night he signs on with the company, Steve Rogers reads it from cover to cover. He reads it again after his first week.

A month into his new job, Steve comes to the conclusion that the Stark Industries employee manual is the single most unhelpful document in all of New York. He decides to write his own.

*

**Survival Tip #1: _If you see Iron Man around, pretend you don’t know it’s Tony Stark until he reveals it. Apparently he gets very upset if you jump the gun._**

See, here’s the thing: nowhere in the original manual does it tell you what you should do if you find _Earth’s mightiest heroes_ in the elevator. If you had asked Steve before he started working at Stark Industries, he would’ve said that superheroes didn't use public elevators.

Except -- well, here they are.

He thinks he can be forgiven for staring a little.

“What the hell, JARVIS?” Iron Man asks and he sounds very much like Tony Stark. That would actually explain a lot, come to think of it.

He is surrounded by the other members of the famed Avengers which Steve has only ever heard about but never actually seen in person.

Until now. Inside the elevator.

There’s Thor, supposed God of Thunder, with his frankly fantastic mane of blonde hair and impressive biceps. Hawkeye is next to him, frozen in the middle of fiddling with an arrow, his bow slung over one shoulder. Widow leans against him, staring at Steve like she’s thinking of all the ways she can incapacitate him before the elevator doors close.

It’s actually very alarming.

Someone that Steve assumes is the Hulk stands beside her, tucked away into a corner of the elevator and half-hidden behind Iron Man’s bulk.

Front and center, acting as guard for his teammates, is the most mysterious member of all: the Winter Soldier. His only defining features are his metal arm and medium-length brown hair because he is the only other person besides Iron Man actually wearing their mask. At least someone understands how superheroes are supposed to work.

“I do apologize, sir, but I _did_ try to warn you that this was not, in fact, your private elevator,” says an accented voice that Steve has _never_ heard before. It comes from the direction of the elevator’s ceiling and makes him jump a little.

He tears his eyes away from the Winter Soldier and looks up, half-expecting to see another person.

There isn’t one, thank God.

Widow rolls her eyes but it’s Hawkeye that speaks next. “Are you kidding me?” He says in Iron Man’s direction. “The one time we actually have time to take the elevator and it’s _not_ the super secret one?”

Iron Man taps a finger to the chin of his faceplate, the gesturing resulting in a rhythmic clanging sound.

“I may have forgotten where it was. Temporarily.” His hands come up, defensive, when he receives more than one incredulous stare. “Pepper will remind me! Or JARVIS!”

Hawkeye very slowly places the arrow in his hand back in its quiver. “Well, this is super embarrassing.”

“Why didn’t you just _fly_?” Steve asks before he can stop himself. “I’m pretty sure at least two of you can fly.”

“Who _are_ you?” Iron Man fires back, accusatory, like it’s _Steve’s_ fault that they got caught using the elevator. “And what are you even doing here this late?”

“You know what,” he says, feeling far too calm. “I think I’ll take the next elevator. Good night, Mr. Stark.”

The doors close on Iron Man’s - no, that is definitely Tony Stark’s - indignant squawk and the surprised laughter of his teammates.

It is, all in all, a very strange and very awkward encounter.

*

The next morning, he barely makes into Sam Wilson’s office before he blurts out: “The Avengers work at Stark Tower.”

And really, he should be given some kind of award for waiting _that_ long. That one fact has been buzzing around in his head since he saw them.

Sam raises his eyebrows; his expression is surprised and confused for several seconds before it melts into a wide, teasing grin.

“So _you’re_ the one that sassed Tony.”

Steve tenses and looks away, shifty. “Not technically.”

“Not _technically_ ,” Sam repeats, still wearing that shit-eating grin. “So that’s a yes.”

“If it was,” Steve asks, very innocently. “What would your response be?”

“If the answer is yes, then I was reminded this morning that I am contractually obligated to tell you that anyone who works for Tony Stark is a lucky, lucky person,” Sam replies. “And that you should show the proper amount of fearful reverence the next time you see your savior in the flesh.”

Steve blinks. “Contractually obligated?”

“Mr. Stark doesn’t play around when it comes to his ego.” Sam shakes his head. “Glad to know the whole story now. He complained about you all night, kept saying _that pipsqueak_. I thought he was talking about Parker and just forgot his name but this makes a lot more sense.”

Steve scowls. “I am not a pipsqueak,” he says, because he’s not. He’s twenty-five years old and yes, he is an inch or two shorter than most people. Yes, he is rail thin because of his multitude of medical conditions. But he is not a pipsqueak. He’s just _wiry_. “Also you _knew_? About the Avengers?”

Because he doesn’t really seem all that surprised that their boss is secretly Iron Man.

“Everyone knows, man.” Sam shrugs. “What do you think the non-disclosure agreements are for? I mean, yeah, we’d like to keep the experiments and the projects quiet. But the real secrets we’re trying to protect live about twenty floors up and most of ‘em don’t like being treated like Rapunzel, locked at the top of the tower.”

Steve is a little shell-shocked and running on autopilot, so he can’t stop himself from snorting and saying, “might want to tell them not to use the elevator _in full uniform_ , then.”

He winces as soon as it’s out but Sam just grins, like this is the most amusing thing to happen to him in a while. Which is categorically untrue, okay, because Steve knows for a fact that some top secret experiment gave him gills last week and he spent _most_ of the time horsing around in the form of any and all water-related activities until it could be fixed.

Steve massages the bridge of his nose and wonders if perhaps he shouldn’t have taken up that offer from Hammer Industries. “Anything _else_ I should know?” He asks.

“Occasionally, I may join them as the Falcon.”

“The Falcon. Of course you are.” Steve makes a meaningless gesture with his hand. He thinks -- no, actually, he has no idea what to think. “I’ve got to -- go make sure Darcy didn’t rearrange my desk again.”

He’s halfway out the door when Sam calling his name stops him.

“You stole his thunder, you know,” he says, like that’s even supposed to make sense.

“What?”

“Tony,” Sam clarifies. “You stole his thunder. When he finds out about the new employees, he likes to reveal himself publicly. Fireworks, the whole nine yards. He was very put out that you took it away from him.”

Steve snorts. “Tell him to change his voice when he’s in the suit, then,” he says and walks out. As the door closes behind him, he shouts: “And I’ve been here for _two months_!”

He barely has time to sit down at his desk - which, yes, has been rearranged for the third time this week - before his computer screen flickers on. Tony Stark glares at him, standing in what appears to be some sort of lab.

“My voice does change in the suit,” he says, petulant.

Steve should be surprised but he really, really isn’t.

“No, it doesn’t.” And then: “Do you spy on _all_ your employees’ conversations?”

“It’s my building, I can do what I want,” Tony says immediately, in a tone better suited to the words _fuck the police_. It’s so automatic that Steve suspects he’s had to defend his snooping many times before. “And are you calling your boss a liar, kid?”

“No, I’m telling a vigilante superhero that he’s not as well-disguised as he thinks he is.”

“Are you -- are you _sassing_ me? Is that sass I hear?” Tony leans in closer, squinting. For the second time in less than twenty-four hours, he asks, “who _are_ you?”

“Steve Rogers,” Steve replies. “Ms. Potts’ new administrative assistant.”

Tony’s eyes light up. “Pepper has a new secretary _?_ Pepper has a secretary that’s _you_? Bruce! Bruce, Pepper has a secretary!”

He looks off-screen, grinning. There’s a clatter, the sound of a sigh, and then shuffling that gets progressively louder.

“Who are you talking to, Tony?” Another face pops into view, shaggy brown hair and tanned skin and kind, shy eyes. Steve recognizes him as one of the people from the elevator; the Hulk? The Hulk’s name is Bruce. Okay, then. “Oh, you again. Hello.”

“Hi.”

“Is Tony harassing you?” Bruce asks calmly. Steve wonders if this happens a lot.

“He hacked into my computer,” he says. “To call me a liar.”

Tony makes another indignant noise while Bruce pinches the bridge of his nose like an exasperated parent.

“I’m very sorry,” he says while sending Tony a stern look. “We try to keep him away from people as much as possible. It was nice to meet you, um.”

“Steve.”

“It was nice to meet you, Steve.” Bruce grabs Tony by the arm. “Let’s go before I tell Natasha that --”

The screen goes black before he finishes his thought. Steve stares at it, unsure of what to make of the past twelve or so hours, until Darcy’s face pops into view.

“Welcome to Stark Industries,” she singsongs.

And, well. That’s really all there is to say, isn’t it?


End file.
